


Sea-ing the sky and the stars

by Maura_Moo



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Adoptive Parent Medda Larkson | Medda Larkin, Aged Down Character, Aged-Up Character(s), Albert DaSilva Being an Idiot, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Angst, Anxious David Jacobs, Autistic David Jacobs, Bisexual David Jacobs, Bisexual Jack Kelly, Blood and Injury, David Jacobs Needs A Hug, Deaf Racetrack Higgins, Eventual Smut, Everyone Is Gay, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Newsies, Gay Spot Conlon, Good Parent Medda Larkson | Medda Larkin, Graphic Description, How Do I Tag, I Blame Tumblr, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Made Myself Cry, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Injury, Italian Racetrack Higgins, Jewish Jacobs Family (Newsies), Lesbian Katherine Plumber Pulitzer, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Mentioned Les Jacobs, Minor Character Death, Minor Crutchie/Jack Kelly, Minor Romeo/Specs (Newsies), Minor Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins, Multi, Mutual Pining, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic! at the Disco References, Pining David Jacobs, Pirates, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Pre-Poly, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Spring Awakening References, Swords, Trans Character, Trans Medda, captain cora higgins, dyslexic writer, les is a baby, pansexual Cora Higgins, race has an adopted sister, romantic, thats les, very minor ships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28378986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maura_Moo/pseuds/Maura_Moo
Summary: “What’s going on?” Kath asks, sliding her knife into the brace on her arm. With a free hand, she pulls her sword and suits her weapons up. Hands gently grasping at Cora’s while they sweep onto the desk.“Pulitzer’s ship has been spotted, decked not too far from here-'' She turns away from Katherine and eyes her crew, their energetic eyes and bold shoulders. They land on the smallest member of her crew and she opens her arms. “From what we can see, Pulitzer aint on board. So we pillage the ship, grab any and all gold you can find.” Her voice takes on an almost grave tone as she scoops Les up and disarms his wooden sword from his flailing arms. “Kill anyone who gets in the way. Got it?”//Yes i wish I could summerise//
Relationships: Crutchie/Jack Kelly, David Jacobs/Original Female Character(s), Katherine Plumber Pulitzer/Original Female Character(s), Katherine plumber Pulitzer/Original female character(s)/David Jacobs, Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2





	1. Give me envy, give me malice

Specs is the first one to spot the flag of the rival ship. He squints down the barrel of his telescope before clambering down from his perch and informing the crew. Feet scamper excitedly as they gather weapons and tuck them securely into their belts and hidden unsuspectedly under layers of thin clothes. Specs pushes and shoves through the crew, arms slightly outstretched to stop himself from falling. He knocks twice on the captains quarters waiting impatiently for Cora to answer. 

“Enter. This better be important.” She snaps, pushes herself off her girlfriend’s lap and over to the taller man, eyebrow cocked curiously up. Her arms stay folded against her chest as they talk. With a nod, she turns snatching her sword off the side and sliding it securely into the side of her belt. Kath raises an eye in confusion, sea-swept red hair falling carefully against her skin. 

“What’s going on?” Kath asks, sliding her knife into the brace on her arm. With a free hand, she pulls her sword and suits her weapons up. Hands gently grasping at Cora’s while they sweep onto the desk. 

“Pulitzer’s ship has been spotted, decked not too far from here-'' She turns away from Katherine and eyes her crew, their energetic eyes and bold shoulders. They land on the smallest member of her crew and she opens her arms. “From what we can see, Pulitzer aint on board. So we pillage the ship, grab any and all gold you can find.” Her voice takes on an almost grave tone as she scoops Les up and disarms his wooden sword from his flailing arms. “Kill anyone who gets in the way. Got it?” 

The crew nods and with that Katherine takes the wheel and steers alongside the ship. “Mama I wanna help!” She hears Les state, pulling on the fabric of her skirt. 

“Les darling” Cora runs a protective hand down the side of his freckled face. “Ya can’t help. Ya, only little. It ain't safe.” Les sighs, snatching his sword back and scampering away to stand with his sister, ducking behind a barrel as the rival ship pulls itself into view. 

It sits, still and festering with crewmates, chatting idly and soundlessly as they wander around the filthy wood. They seem unaware of the threat floating a few feet in front of them. 

There’s a thud as Katherine steers the ship closer, their flag lowering unsuspiciously. With an anonymous sheet tugged over the ship, they pull near and the crew spreads out silently; some take refuge on the dock, the old beams shaking under their boots. Others cling to the side of Pulitzer’s ship, knives dug deeply into the sea-spray stained wood. Cora stands with her face tilted to the sun, “charge” the word is barely above a whisper yet it sends shockwaves through the crew. 

Blood stains the deck as they attack, swords clashing and the groans of the dying fill the sea air. Cora stands, cutlass branded as she walks through the warzone, gathering shimmering golden rings off stained fingers and dainty gemstones left discarded as crewmates try to run. 

It's the thud of a cannonball against the side of the ship that startles David away from the golden coins in his hands. The smell of blood and gunpowder and smoke has started to fill below-deck and with seawater pooling at his feet clicks the unanswered questions into place. The coins clatter out his hands as he dashes from the library into the kitchen. 

The dent in the ship is small, easily patched up with a few nails and a plank of wood. He clings to that idea as he buries himself under the table, long limbs pulled close. The tablecloth falls, hiding him from any passers-by. The shuffle of footsteps above him makes him whimper, eyes peeking carefully out from under the table, scanning the area. 

The stairs creak under the weight of Cora’s crew scampering downstairs, Jack steps into the corridor and squints down into the kitchen, his eyes unadjusted to the low light. The glinting of scattered coins captures his attention and he turns, jogging into the library. Dave begs silently that whoever is downstairs, spots the money and not him. Shadows lit by candlelight dance on the walls as dark, wicked hands grasp at shaded coins, pushing rough handfuls into bulging pockets. The shadow looms over his hiding place before disappearing. 

A wave of relief washes over David’s body. Movement above him mocks his calmness. There are muffled voices and light footsteps that scamper over his head like ship mice. Every muscle tightens, forcing him to settle and lock in his uncomfortable hiding place. With the peephole, Dave scans the kitchen for another escape route, some underdeck tunnel where prisoners would normally be kept, any way to avoid his head rolling and him meeting his family yet again. 

Boots step into view and his blood runs cold. With no possible escape, the only thing he can do is a frantic dash for the door and scamper above the ship hoping that the death will be quick and painless. Carefully he uncoils his legs, fatigued muscles screaming at the movements, before shifting and crawling out from under the table.

He presses his knees and hands gingerly against the kitchen floor, it cold and splintering under him. He shifts carefully, body half poked out from behind the table before the corner of the tablecloth tangles its way around his feet. It tumbles behind him with a flurry, the contents shaking on the table. David begs in his mind for them to stay still, that this mouse will get away from the vicious cat. 

Cups roll onto their sides and glasses crash against the hardwood table. Cutlery clatters against messily-discharged plates. The predator turns, barely capturing a glimpse of David hiding behind the nearest china hutch. His back collides against the stained metal with a thud, chipped plates trembling, he catches one falling and it happens in slow motion; the plate drumming against the floor behind it shatters with a furious crash. 

Blonde hair swirls around the face of his capture as they spin around, hand resting tentatively on the curved handle of the cutlass strapped at their hip. He hovers, breath blocked by a lump of fear in his chest. His potential execution steps closer and he presses his back against the hardwood. Hoping that there will be some kind of distraction; the scampering of rats across her feet startling her away, someone still alive from the crew. Anyone to pull their eyes away from him. 

But there’s nothing but silence and the heaving of his chest as the footsteps squeak closer and suddenly he’s face-to-face with his capture. Her face is soft, round but scarred and dented by her time at sea. Two pairs of eyes flit down to stare at the shards of the broken plate on the floor. 

Cora slices her cutlass through the air, pressing it snugly in the taller man’s throat, eyes narrowing with a well-needed bitterness. “Who are you?” 

“Whatsit to you?” David snaps back, pushing the tip of the sword away with a simple flick of his wrist. His clothes slice easier than skin. The blade is almost sickly warm against his shoulder, still hot from the body heat of Dave’s slain crewmates. It makes his stomach knot in a way that makes him feel sick. Tattered strands of his grey shirt hang like entrails and the weight of the sword of his throat makes her silent words ring so clearly;

Talk or your shirt won’t be the only thing that’s sliced.

His eyes drift down to his shirt, the cutlass pressing dangerously sharp into his throat, the coldness of the women’s face in front of him. “David.” He finally admits, releasing his breath when the sword is pulled away and re-holstered on her hip. 

“Great.” the woman murmurs; with the sword away and hat pushed away from the curve of her face, David takes in the thick scars on her face, the stark warmness of her eyes from the rest of her bloodstained face.``Where’s Pulitzer?” Even her voice, although thick and dusted with an accent has a calmness that lulls David in with the memories of lullabies his parents used to sing him and his siblings.

He’s half-tempted to shrug but the hand, still freckled with blood, gripping at the curved handle of her sword tells him differently. 

“I dunno. Honestly. He said he was going for supplies but took no coins. I control the money y’see. I have since I was about seven-” he cuts himself off when he sees her roll her eyes and brush tired, sea-sprayed hair away from her face. 

“Right” she nods, turning when another pair of footsteps join them, cursing the water that’s pooling almost ankle deep. 

“Cora, da ships sinkin- what’s we got here?” 

“Ise can see da ships sinkin Jack '' The blonde- Cora, spits back eyebrow cocked before gesturing to David ``That's Davey. Tie him up” 

“Why?” 

“Cause, dumbass, If we steal him, it’s like us havin’ Pulitzer in the palm of our grubby lil hands. He’ll grovel for his coin boy back” She pats Jack on his shoulder as Cora wades through the water to hover on the stairs, bathed in the dimming sun like a fallen angel. “Tie him up” 

“Why?” Jack asks again, tapping his belt for a loop of rope. 

There’s a devious smirk that paints itself across the freckled cheeks and split lips of the pirate captain. “We gotta prisoner. Makes him feel welcome” and with that, she disappears, stealing the last traces of lights along with her. 

Jack keeps padding his hips and pockets, chuckling nervously “I-Ise ain't got no rope” He admits, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Third draw, the second section on the left '' Jack's eyes widen in the darkness. He’s been a pirate since the age of seventeen yet has never heard a prisoner tell him where the ropes were. Shrugging off his surprise, Jack follows his directions and soon the rope is wrapped tight around Davids’s hands. 

He locks his fingers together and squints when Jack tugs him above-deck, the low summer sun burning his unadjusted eyes. His feet trudge slowly and obediently across the plank and stops when Cora stops stabbing him gently in the back with the tip of her sword. 

A thousand pairs of eyes fall on his timidly calm face, taking note of the flushed cheeks and the darkened eyes as his hands are tangled around the mast-post. It forces his back straight and his head to tilt slightly unnaturally towards the sky. 

David watches a woman wrap her arms snugly around Cora’s waist and press her lips messily against her. He raises an eyebrow in surprise and his legs shift closer to his body, trying to make himself as small as possible. 

He allows his eyes to adjust to the low light, watching as the night sucks the brightness from the sky. At least he’ll be able to talk to the stars tonight.


	2. I’m cutting my mind off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He allows his eyes to adjust to the low light, watching as the night sucks the brightness from the sky. At least he’ll be able to talk to the stars tonight.

David causes no trouble until the sun starts to beat down on his head furiously. It's been hours but it feels like years. His eyes feel like they’re swimming, pickled in the sea breeze and every breath feels like a fight. His head spins and he can feel the corners of his vision blurring and darkening. His throat feels dry and he prays that death would swallow him up quicker than this.

Sweat causes friction on the ropes around his wrists and they throb with a dull pain that should be burning his aching limbs. Davey forces the muscles in his neck to move, trying to block out the vicious rays of the sun, beating and attacking his painful body. Somewhere he hears a distracted mumble and an order before the same, leather boots fall into his bleary eyes. 

He follows the blurring shapes; the legs hidden snugly behind a short skirt, a ruffled shirt, long hair tangled and fluffed by the breeze, the round face with the soft nose, wide eyes and pointed chin. A blissful smile spreads across his tired features and for the first time since he was stolen, he feels the thick ropes rub against his wrists. “Sarah? Y- you’re” 

The words die on his tongue as simply as the sea breeze. His head lulls almost dangerously to the side and his mouth hangs slightly open, cracked and glistening in the midday sun. 

Cora looks away from her prisoner and calls over the two nearest crewmates. Spot hooks his arms around David’s middle as Tommy slices his hands free. They hang uselessly by his sides and then around Spot and Tommy’s shoulders. She follows the three men with her eyes, almost nervously pleased when they disappear. “Kathy, sweetheart?” 

Katherine appears at her side, red hair tangling in the soft breeze as they steer further out to sea. They’re not really sure where they’re going or what they’ll find but they have a month to collect more gold. “Yeah?” Katherine asks eventually, her hands resting over coras. 

“Where’s Les?” The blonde asks, not waiting for an answer before ducking back below deck. 

“Les, stop feeding the ship rats'' Romeo scolds, waving a flour-covered hand in the child’s direction, trying to pull his attention away from the rats, scurrying and gnawing on stale crackers and back on the task at hand. “Have you fed snowdrop?” 

Les nods furiously and clambers back on to the stool at Romeo’s side. A small ball of dough sits in front of him and instantly he copies Romeo’s calloused hands, fingers spreading and balls of his palms digging deeply as he kneads. 

The world around Les melts away and soon it’s just him and the bread dough sticking to his hands and squelching of the yeast as it works its magic. The sudden dragging and large shadows falling into the medical bay drags Les’ bright eyes away from the dough and over towards Romeo. When Romeo shrugs, Les jumps off his perch and crawls to hide behind the door. 

He watches Tommy and Spot toss a body onto the table and Elmer rolls his blood-stained sleeves up. None of them look happy and they talk as if they know he’s there; quickly and without looking at each other. 

Elmer dismisses Spot and Tommy before going to lean over the palaver on the table. Spot opens the door and Les ducks back into the kitchen. “They brought in a body!” 

“A body?” Romeo echoes, kicking closed the stove door. 

“Yeah! A body! Of the man mama dragged the other day!” Les bounces in his tip-toes, an aura of childish excitement that makes Romeo smile and ruffle his shaggy brown locks. 

“Can I go see uncle Romeo please?” 

He presses his lips together and sighs when Les tilts his head and widens his eyes. He is weak to Les puppy eyes and soft childlike joy. Romeo sighs again and gives in with the passing of a bowl and a messy glass of water. “Take this to Elmer. See if the body has a name.” 

There's a sharp nod from Les and then a careful walk across the corridor and a tap on the door. It captures Elmer’s attention and he looks away from David and over to the door as it opens and Les sneaks inside, feet carefully settling into the hard-wood. “I brought soup...and water” Elmer chuckles and takes them both from Les with a kiss to his forehead as a thank you.

“Hey kiddo?” Elmer places the bowl down and settles it on the nearby table before picking les up and settling him next to Davey.“Think you can look after our new friend while I go and tell mama and mom what's wrong with him?” 

Les and Davey share a questioning look before the smaller boy leaves. As soon as the door closes, Les turns to face David and grins.

With a small smile, Dave nods turning his attention to anything but the small child at his side. There is something about his chubby cheeks and wrinkled nose that reminded him of before. Before Pulitzer and before washing ashore

Before...

“What's your name?” 

“Hmm?” David hums, turning his attention back to the child for a few seconds “David. They all call me Davey though” 

A nod from the child. “Why are you here?” 

A shrug.

“Where ya folks? Dya have siblings? I have a sister Sarah. And I have my uncle Jack and my Uncle Race! And my uncle Spot and Tommy- they’re the ones who brought you down” 

He blinks. The child rambles on but his mind blocks out his voice, his head still aches and his eyes are still settling back into their sockets. With a yawn, Davey turned his face away from the child and takes note of the medicine bottles on the shelves, the glass of water in his hand and the bowl of soup still hot. David watches the steam rise off the liquid and disappear into the air. 

“Mama!” Les holds his arms up and cora scoops him into her arms and settles him on her hip.

“What are you doing down here?” David asks, raising the glass of water to his mouth and taking a sip. 

“Ise just checking on my property” she tells him, pretending to not see how red David’s face goes or how he chokes a little on the water in his gasp. Putting Les down, cora smiles and presses a kiss to his head. “Les sweetpear, why dontcha go play with mom huh?” 

With a quick hug, Les snatches his sword off the steps and sprints off to play in the low afternoon sun. 

Cora and Davey sit in silence for a little before his face cracks into a light smile. Despite the smile, his eyes shine with a certain confusion that makes her stare. “What?” she laughs out. 

“Y-you gotta kid?” 

She shakes her head. “Not really. He nd his sister was brought in after the death of their folks. We’s grew up together ‘nds Ise kinda brought Les up. Whens we started doin alla dis-” she flails her hand haphazardly at the ship around her “he's was jus little.” 

David nods and flashes an aching half-smile. “So you adopted him? That's great.” The two of them share a smile, only broken by David finishing his water.

The glass scratches against the table when he places it down slightly roughly. Once the glass is empty and the bowls gone cold, Cora re-ties Davey's wrists, settling to lean against the bench where the taller male is sitting. He stares down at his bounds wrists and for a few split seconds, a smile brushes on his lips that instantly disappears, his flushed face turning neutral. 

Cora shrugs and her mouth opens to answer him, slamming it closed when Elmer returns. “Some sleep should suit you up well enough.” He tells David.

Cora pushes herself up and leaves the medical bay, head bowed to the sun's rays. Blearily, David follows Elmer to a cell and slumps on the bed. The mattress is hard and the pillows are thin, the blankets are rough and his skin feels like it's burning as he forces his body to lay down. 

With his wrists bound, Davey lays back with the blanket tossed across his frame and allows the darkness to swallow him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Mama mama! Mama! Come on! Come on!” David runs down the bay, hands full of shining pebbles. They drop through his fingers and he stops to collect them again and toss them into the sea, giggling as they skip before sinking below the water. His mother appears behind him, his baby brother in his arms and Sarah trudging begrudgingly behind her. “I wanna see pop bring the boat it!”


	3. Letting the water fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Mama mama! Mama! Come on! Come on!” David runs down the bay, hands full of shining pebbles. They drop through his fingers and he stops to collect them again and toss them into the sea, giggling as they skip before sinking below the water. His mother appears behind him, his baby brother in his arms and Sarah trudging begrudgingly behind her. “I wanna see pop bring the boat it!” 
> 
> TW: minor character death, drowning, nightmares

“Mama mama! Mama! Come on! Come on!” David runs down the bay, hands full of shining pebbles. They drop through his fingers and he stops to collect them again and toss them into the sea, giggling as they skip before sinking below the water. His mother appears behind him, his baby brother in his arms and Sarah trudging begrudgingly behind her. “I wanna see pop bring the boat it!” 

Esther chuckles and Sarah groans. “Mama I dont wanna go fishing its stupid!” 

“No it's not!” Dave protests, slamming his foot down against the soft sand. “Finishing brings in our food and mama is a great cook!” 

“Thank you David.” Esther presses a kiss to her son's head before pecking her infant son cheek, pulling the thick blanket tighter around the baby's chubby arms and kicking legs. “Sarah darling, if you don't want to go finishing you can stay on the pier and watch Lesley” 

“Fine.” She mumbles, bouncing Lesley in her arms. He stares up at his sister with wide, dark eyes so starkly different from the soft, indescribable blue of the twins eyes. Sarah rocks her arms and the baby grins before his face screws up and he yawns. “It's just you and me kiddo” Sarah tells him before a bell tolls out in front of them.

“It's pa!” David scrambles up the beach and clambers onto the pier, fixing his outfit before skidding to a halt. His arms pinwheeling to stop himself from falling into the water. It lashes at the legs of the pier like the tongue of a hungry dog finding a bone. It disappears when his father pulls their little boat into the dock. 

“Someones excited” Mayer chuckles when David nods so hard he nearly falls over. He picks his son up and settles him on the boat, before taking his wife's hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles as Esther steps into the boat. 

“Not coming Saz?” He asks when Sarah tightens her grip on Lesley’s blanket. He simply nods and presses a kiss to his daughters head. “Okay haim shelli. We’ll be out for three hours. Play on the beach, see if you can get Lesley to sit up” 

With their goodbyes done, Mayer pulls up the anchor and lets the boat float towards the horizon. Sarah blinks at the heavy sun, sitting with her bare feet hanging in the salty air. She bounces Les on her knee, giggling when he squeals and waves his arms free from the crocheted wool. 

It's the sudden disappearance of the sun and the sudden flashing of dry lightning that makes Sarah look away from her baby brother and back up to the sea. Waves thrash angrily against rocks and swallows the boat in one shift gulp. 

Sarah screams, scrambling to stand, as rain starts to hammer down around her. It soaks her face and pushes hair in her eyes. Lesley screams in her arms, face red and hands cold.

Her head jolts from the sea, eyes frantically hunting for something, anything to show that her parents were still alive, to her baby brother, his face screwing up with a scream and his angry fists pounding against the thick air. 

With one last look over at the grey-blue sea, Sarah makes her choice and turns running. Sprinting away from the dock, away from the sea, just running as far as her trembling legs could take her or until her soaked clothes weigh her down enough for her to join her family. 

~~  
David doesn’t spot how angry the sea gets or how thick black clouds block the once happy sun. He looks up from the fish, still swimming around in a bucket, half-filled with seawater. Their wide eyes shimmer with a sadness that makes David pout. They nibble on his fingers and bump into his hand making him giggle. 

It's only when the boat rocks does he look up fearfully. “Mama?” He asks, standing to take her hand. 

“David get inside. '' His mothers voice was low, almost gravely as she stared detached out at the furious waves. When her son protests, Esther turns away from the sea and quickly shoves him to the other side of the boat. She knows what's going to happen. With a final look towards her husband. They join hands and wait for the inevitable. 

She stares at her son's terrified eyes as he cowers. Rain mixing with scared tears on his face. The boat splinters as easily as a hot knife through butter. The water is cold against their skin and it saps the energy from their already tired limbs. The bucket of fish rolls and the fish swim away, happy to be free. 

Dave screams and splashes to try and swim towards his mother. Esther struggles to keep her head above water. Mayer swims over to his wife and ties to fight the current to drag his son back.

“It's okay David.” His mother comforts, her limbs going numb. Her head slips below water, only resurfacing with a choking gasp. Her lips are stained blue and her eyes seem to sink into her skull. Mayer tries to hold onto his wife, using aching limbs to tug her up but the thin fabric of her shirt falls through his fingers.

Esther is the first to go. Sinking slowly. 

David tries to cling to his father, yelling and trying to take in as much air as possible. His father tries to grab him but another wave pushes them apart. 

Dave goes under. 

The salt stings his eyes and the water stings as it floods his lungs. He feels the current lashing him against rocks and feels the tight hands of death gripping at his ankles. It feels them pulling him down. 

His vision darkens.

His ears ring. 

His chest stops moving. 

“Mama!” He yells, sitting up and glancing around the room. There's no sea around him, he's no longer seven. His breath rockets out of his with furious gasps and his head pounds with anxiety. 

He's not drowning. 

He's sitting bolt upright, sweat sticking his clothes to him, in some dimly lit cell with panic rushing through his system. His hands are bound and the air is rough. 

With shaking legs, he pushes himself out of bed and tip-toes through the cell and is happy when the cell door creaks over with nothing more than a simple shove of his shoulder. The lock has been weakened with age and despite the thick rope itching his wrists, Davey feels himself starting to calm slightly. 

He tries not to think about that night as he makes his way up the stairs. He tries not to linger on the memories of his mother screaming his name, of his fathers deathly- cold fingers brushing against the inside of his wrist just barely grabbing him before the sea steals their eldest son away from them. 

He tries not to think of his sister and baby brother, how scared they must have been as they settled on the dock. Something in the back of his mind, a small stupid speck of hope tells him that they’re out there somewhere. That they’re alive. But he remembered hearing the news that nobody was found.

Only a white crocheted baby blanket, turned brown and muddy by the storm. 

Now out above deck, he stares at the moon, drawing shapes with his eyes. He traces the stars and mumbles the names of the constellations. When he was a kid, his mother would read him stories about the moon, facts printed so clean and bright in thick black and white letters that David clung onto the hope the facts gave him. 

There was no death on the moon because nobody had ever been there. 

Like how there was no death inside his mind, his mother lives on in his love of the stars and his father lives on in his whitt and skills. His sister still lives on in his compassion and Lesley lives on in the slashes of brown in his warm blue eyes. 

His parents go on, even if their bones are being used as houses for schools of fish. 

His parents live on. Through him. 

He is his mother's son, his father's little boy, his sister's younger twin and his baby brother's role model. Even if he wasn’t his parent's favourite child. He was still their son.

He is David Jacobs.

He can't forget that. 

Like he can’t forget the truth about the moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A month rolls past with the setting and rising of the sun. Davey gets used to the ropes tied loosely against his wrists. His fingers no longer ache and he's allowed to wander around the ship at his pleasure, he slowly learns the names of the people that now become his friends. They no longer treat him like a prisoner, as if he was some kind of criminal or prize to be fought over. He was treated as a friend.


	4. Oh he's slightly clever to just a certain extent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He is David Jacobs.
> 
> He can't forget that. 
> 
> Like he can’t forget the truth about the moon.

A month rolls past with the setting and rising of the sun. Davey gets used to the ropes tied loosely against his wrists. His fingers no longer ache and he's allowed to wander around the ship at his pleasure, he slowly learns the names of the people that now become his friends. They no longer treat him like a prisoner, as if he was some kind of criminal or prize to be fought over. He was treated as a friend. 

He’d spend time watching, helping and learning. Spot, Tommy and Albert invited him to help with being a gunner. They praised David when he set the cannon up correctly and spilling gunpowder wasn’t a crime, they had comforted him when he rambles out a nervous reply. 

He helps Romeo cook and kneels with Les in the corner, sneakily feeding the rats broken crumbs of fresh and staling bread and letting Snowdrop perch on his fingers while pecking seed out of the palm of his hand. 

Sarah gives him a few confused smiles, like there's something about his face and crooked, innocent smile that reminds her of her brother lost in sea-spray and wave foam. 

Specs teaches him how to watch over the ship, check over the gunners as they clean and take stock of the ship's weapons and he’d scamper around the ship mumbling much-needed messages under his breath.

Elmer was by far his favourite. He’d teach him how to sew wounds without leaving gaps and use alcohol to clean wounds. He’d fish out splinters out of their skin and bandage burns and stop les from picking at the scabs on his knees. 

Part of him still longed for the familiar beatings and stresses of Pulitzer’s ship. Sometimes he’d feel slightly unsettled curled up with the other crew mates while they share meals and talk as if they’re part of a family. Most of the time Davey sits silently, itching the scars on his arm under the table. 

Jack clicks his fingers and drags David away from the thoughts that still haunt the back of his mind. “Ya listenin pal?” He chuckles when Davey nods and shifts his sitting position. They’re curled up under the mast, the sail protecting their tanned skin from the sun's rays. Davey's hands settle in his lap, still tangled in thick rope as Jack teaches him the right way to tie knots.

“Right” Jack starts, waving the rope in front of Davey’s eyes. “The most common knot ya gotta learn is da sailors knot. It ain't easy to get outta and stays when it gets wet.” He winks and chuckles as if something funny, something that Davey doesn't quite get but he laughs along anyway.

They sit together for a while, alone in their own world. Jack rambling and showing David the right way to tie knots and how to untie them. He never brings up the type of knots that keep the now tired rope bound to his wrists. Occasionally, David looks down and stretches his hands, massaging the now calloused skin against the fabric of his pants. 

“So what's your story?” Jack asks suddenly, not looking up from the buntline hitch knot he was tying. David’s head snaps up so fast that his neck clicks. 

“Ya really wanna know?” 

“That's why I asked. Ya idiot” Jack smiles, patting Davey on the knee.

Oh...um My folks died when I was young. Seven. I had?-have? Did have? A twin sister and a baby brother but they died in the storm alongside my parents.” Davey sighs, thumb rubbing nervous circles on his palm. “Pulitzer found me when I washed up...saw I was good at math and kinda shoved me into looking after the money…” 

Jack only nods. Handing Davey a finished knot, he smiles “sorry bout ya folks..and ya siblings. Kinda sucks seeing ya folks die in fronta ya.” He hums in understanding when David nods and once again flexes his fingers. “My pa got killed in fronta me when I was a kid. Left me ‘lone in some random bar. Cora nd Racer’s pa found me. Took me ta Medda.” 

“So you're family?” Davey asks, head tilted to the side. 

“Mhmm. and since ya still breathin, ise guessin dat youse are too” 

Another silence envelops the two of them before the sound of flat wood drumming in footfall capures Davey’s nervous attention. Crutchie smiles at the both of them before Jack stands and steals a smooth kiss against his lips. 

Davey wants to look away but surprise glues his eyes to the open display of affection. Around the two of them, the world carries on. There's no angry yells and Cora doesn't come to whip the two of them. When Race walks past staring, David braces himself to hear him yell, but he just wolf whistles and walks off to the other side of the ship. 

Jack pulls away from the blond, cheeks flushed red under the son and smirks as crutchie hobbles away to collect firewood. Davey's blue eyes follow over the man and then bounce back to Jack wide and unseeing. “Y-you're allowed to do that?” 

Jack's eyebrow raises, and a flash of anger dances against the mud brown of his iris’. “Why? Ya gotta problem?!” He snaps and suddenly something sharp and cold is pressed against the rapidly beating pulse in David’s neck; his breathing falters and he holds his bound hands up in a meek attempt of defending himself. 

“No! No problem!” Davey squeaks out, head tilted back and fear pounding his system. There's a desire to swallow and the feeling of warm blood soaks across his face. “w-I...Pulitzer used to whip me if I even mentioned men in..in that kinda way-” He tries to explain, guilt hinting at his voice. It’s only when Jack pulls away and Davey presses trembling fingers against his nose, does he feel the blood and tilt his head forwards. 

Jack looks terrified, eyes wide and mouth hanging agape like a fried fish. Davey looks calm, eyes focused on the sea and chest taking calming breaths. “I-uhm-Goes see’s cora” Jack waves his hand urgently “she can takeya to see Elmer.” 

“Why can't I go by myself?” Davey asks, raising a confused eyebrow.

“Cos ya a prisoner. If we letta prisoner jus wander round the ship, ya could cause chaos! Now go. Cora now!” Jack orders, waving his hand to dismiss Davey. “Blood creeps me out” 

Davey wanders through the busy ship and staggers down the stairs. He stares awkwardly at the door to the captain's quarters, taking in the soft darkwood and the open window, covered by thin purple fabric. He raises his hand to knock, huffing when his other hand follows obediently. 

He nudges the door open with his heel, hands close and head bowed. The first thing he spots is that cora has her back to him; her hair is tangled into a loose ponytail, the blonde curls barely contained by a piece of red ribbon. Katherine's dress hangs open and furious red marks splatter against their skin. Cora’s balanced on Katherine’s lap and her face is buried into her collar-bone.

“Are you just going to watch or are you gonna join in?” Katherine’s voie startles Davey so much that he feels his heartbeat quicken in his chest. He looks away from the back of Cora’s head and stares, blinking at the redhead. 

“Yes!” He blurs out without thinking. His face flushes a dark red and blood flows furiously out his nose, he can feel it dripping off his chin and into the collar of his shirt. Cora jumps at the sound of his voice, pulling her face away from katherine. Her lips are swollen and her eyes are dilated and wide. 

“Ya bleeding.” She managed to mumble out, getting a slow nod from Davey. 

“Jack sent me.” He replies dumbly, voice meek and barely audible over the awkwardness and the burning of his face.

“Elmer’s just below deck, can you make your own way?” Katherine asks, her voice almost honey-sweet with a tone that Davey couldn’t quite pick up on but it made Cora’s blush tremble slowly down her bruised neck and over the tips of her ears. When he nods, Kath waves her hand dismissing him and brings Cora’s kiss-swollen lips to meet hers.

It’s quieter when Davey stumbles down the stairs and perches himself on the side of Elmer’s workbench, shoulders hunched forwards so Elmer can reach his face. They sit in a comfortable silence for a few moments as the dry blood is rubbed softly away with stray rags and alcohol.

It makes Davey’s nose crinkle and tears bundle in the corners of his eyes but just as soon as it had started, it had finished. “If you dilute it a little, you won't go through so much,” Davey tells Elmer. “It’ll still do the job.” 

Elmer smiles and perches next to Davey, elbows pressing against the splintering wood. “Ya seem to know a lot about medicine,” when Davey nods, he raises a curious eyebrow. 

“My mother used to be a nurse before she had my sister and I. She had to give it up when we were born, and still taught us both everything she knew. I used to help with wounds on the old ship I was on...alongside doing the money and general things.” His fingers brush instinctively across his wrist, from the corner of his eyes he spots Elmer wince and pulls a splinter out of his hand. “Can I see?” 

Elmers half-open hand hovers tentatively before he lets it fall in Davey’s larger, bound ones. They move clumsily but precise- tugging the missed spikes of wood and swiping away small bundles of blood. There's no sense of pain that brushes through Elmer’s finger and when Davey lets his hand go, he blinks down and presses his lips together in thought. “Okay, no more blood?” With another quick check, Elmer dismisses Davey and he wanders into the cell and flops uselessly against the hard mattress. 

“He’s really good!” Elmer tells Cora over half-stale bread and cold soup. “Honestly, he’s so calm and his ma was a nurse its-its like it's been ingrained into his skin.” the excited tone falls from his voice. “And it's been a’mighty hard round here. With the medical side’a things- with Jack’s rope burns and Les’ scuffed knees and the bites from the rats- why does he feed them anyway? And how more times can Spot burn his hands. And-” 

“Fine! Jesus!” She rubs a tired hand across her face and drags the last of the bread across the plate, sighing “i’ll think about it. Now go.” Elmer chuckles. Stuffing the hard bread into his cheeks before slaking across the deck, disappearing with a slamming of the hard wooden door. 

The food on her plate slowly becomes uninteresting. It had been weeks since they had collected Davey as a prisoner, and a week since he slowly morphed into the ramshackled family that was her crew. The moon stared down at her, invisible eyes wide with knowing. “I guess Ise could gives him a chance…” she whispered. Half-stale bread soaking in the now cold soup under the light of the stars. 

It's the soft clicking of Cora’s boots that lull Davey slowly out of his dreamless slumber. She’s leaning against the door frame when his eyes blink open. “Hey.” The moon etches soft lines on her face, the silver light skating over the rose apples of her cheeks and sends halos of light around her pupils when she perches at the end of his bed; a smile skating over her lips when he nods, trying his best to stretch his bound arms. 

“Hey.” she whispers, tucking her legs under her. She stares at him for a few seconds taking in the soft way his face falls when confused. “You and elmer are getting along pretty well” 

Davey nods, “I helped him remove a splinter.” he raises his bound hands with a frown “a little hard with these but I managed.” He blinks when he hears her laugh; it rivals the birdsongs and the sounds of running water. “Why?” 

“How would you feel if I said we could use another surgeon on board ‘ere?” 

Davey’s face cortourts into an unknown emotion before he chuckles. “It'll be a little hard with these” He once again brings the thickly-bound arms to their eyeline. Cora laughs again and Davey turns a pale shade of pink which quickly disappears. “But I’d love too” 

“Here.” she takes his hands, running attentive fingers over the curves of his knuckles and the dents of his nails. Davey feels his cheeks burn with a fire bright enough to rival the rapidly approaching sunrise. The rope rubs against his wrists as it tumbles onto the bed between the two of them.

“Thank you.” He whispers gratefully, leaning forwards to pull her into a hug. He pauses, free hands outstretched before tugging them back into nervous fists. “I-I can hug ya right?” He asks, taking note of the softness of her scarred face and the glowing of her eyes. His body aches as she falls into his arms, her hands brushing against the thin fabric of his shirt. 

His long arms hang listlessly for a few seconds before they wrap around her small frame. David takes note of the ribs poking just slightly out the side of her ruffled shirt, the feeling of her head resting on his shoulder, the way their bodies slide together like missing parts of the same star. “Welcome to the family David.” She whispers. 

“Davey.” He feels Cora loosen herself from his side and he instantly craves to pull her back and rest, her head over his heart and the faint smell of sea spray and new-crushes bubbling in the calmly still air around them. But he doesn’t. 

Davey sits his hands in his lap and screws his face up in a yawn. Sleep drags itself back through his body and his eyes lull. Rubbing them furiously, he tries to drag alertness into the blues of his iris’. She gives him a smile, crawling to lay against his pillow. “Ya aint been sleeping so well have ya?” Cora asks, eyes taking detailed notes of the bags under his eyes and the clicking of his bones when he sinks by her side. 

“I've been having nightmares..well just one...every night..so I haven't been sleeping right.” He rolls his wrists and flexes his fingers, anything to distract him from admitting more and looking Cora in the eye while doing it. When he finally peaks up at her through his eyelashes, there's a smog of understanding floating in her eyes. 

They stare at each other, Davey waiting for her to say something, anything. When she stays silent, lying curled into the corner of the bed by the wall; he blinks at her, an eyebrow raised in confusion. Everything tells him to open up to her more but tiredness numbs his tongue and he sinks into the stone-hard mattress, soaking in the feeling of another person laying inches away from him. 

His heavy eyes close slowly and he feels her tug the blankets tightly around his shoulders. Sleep wraps its tender hands around him and rocks him slowly. Cora watches his rapid breathing slow and a soft smile paint across his lips. Tension melts out of his shoulders and Cora runs a soft hand through his hair. 

“It's s’kay Davey. I’ll protect youse.” She whispers, closing her eyes to remember his smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Davey next rolls over, he's met by a cold wall and a colder bed and his heart sinks. He stares,blinking sleep out his eyes, at the wall trying to picture the way she looked asleep. The messily beautiful way her hair tumbles across her face or the way her skin collects the colours of the sunrise and the shadows of the bars. Shadows of the outside; tall buildings and the messy placing of cracked dock flooring. The ship is still, there's no swaying that tosses his stomach. It sits slowly bobbing up and down, like a calm seabird.


	5. Is it still me that makes you sweat?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Davey next rolls over, he's met by a cold wall and a colder bed and his heart sinks. He stares,blinking sleep out his eyes, at the wall trying to picture the way she looked asleep. The messily beautiful way her hair tumbles across her face or the way her skin collects the colours of the sunrise and the shadows of the bars. Shadows of the outside; tall buildings and the messy placing of cracked dock flooring. The ship is still, there's no swaying that tosses his stomach. It sits slowly bobbing up and down, like a calm seabird. 
> 
> //TW: minor sin mention-masturbation//

When Davey next rolls over, he's met by a cold wall and a colder bed and his heart sinks. He stares,blinking sleep out his eyes, at the wall trying to picture the way she looked asleep. The messily beautiful way her hair tumbles across her face or the way her skin collects the colours of the sunrise and the shadows of the bars. Shadows of the outside; tall buildings and the messy placing of cracked dock flooring. The ship is still, there's no swaying that tosses his stomach. It sits slowly bobbing up and down, like a calm seabird. 

With a sigh, he rolls to stare at the ceiling. One stupid night with her by his side and his brain can’t unlatch from the way it made him feel. The swelling of safety and the bubbling butterflies in his chest. The gentle ways she touched him still scald his still in a dull, tender ache. Wide awake and with closed eyes he listens to the creaking of the ship and the shuffling in the room in front of him. Idly he wonders what they’re doing and who's in there. 

“Kathy please!” He recognises the voice, whimpering and tender, and his heart leaps into his throat. He listens to the way Cora whines out Katherines name, her voice rising when she begs. 

Foggy pictures float behind his eyelids. He pictures Cora like he found her a few days ago; cheeks red and pupils wide as she straddles his hips. She smothers kisses against his neck, sharp teeth balling his tender skin as she pulls away. His chest heaves and his eyes open but the daydream remains. 

Cora’s moans sound like angel songs and her whimpers send lustful sparks up and down his spine. Blood drains its way out his face and pools, hot and heavy between his legs. 

Phantom hands trace their way up his legs, burning fingers teasing his waistband. They slide slowly in, pushing them down until the cold air brushes against him. Davey's breath hitches and he lays there, allowing the feelings to wash over him like the waves outside. He hears Cora whimper and he can’t stand it anymore. 

He pumps in time with his heartbeat; slowly at first, his thumb circling the tip before sliding his hand back down. He hears the springs creaking through the wall and Cora’s moans mixing with the fading sounds of outside and his hand speeds up. Knots tighten and loosen in his stomach and he whimpers out lustful moans, them dying on the heavy air once they leave his mouth. Pre-cum runs down his fingers and he bucks his hips roughly into his hand. He longs to moan out her name, to praise her for how good she’s making him feel. To hear her whispering lustful desires into his ear.

But Cora’s all in his fantasy. It's his hands touching him, lulling the building orgasm on with every rough beat. She has Katherine and he knows how happy she is with her. For now, until he dies or he’s away, Cora’s hands will only be a passing glance on his skin. A soft lull of phantom hands and fake whispers stolen from the other side of the wall. His stomach knots again and he waits; listening as his secret love begs for her release.

He pictures her; hands gripping the sheets and legs spread, face red and mouth open. Little whimpers begging him to let her cum as her legs tremble. His eyes close and he tries to hold onto the memories of her moans, the sound of releasing. David tries to cling to the way he imagines her moaning his name, loud enough for the ship to know she belongs to him, even for a night. He releases in his hand and his eyes open and the wisps of Cora drift away. 

He lays, staring up at the ceiling as the fireworks disappear; a pool of guilt and disgust wrapping its way around him. With an old rag, he scrubs his palms and legs until the feelings give through to a weird sense of growing pleasure in his face. The thin walls give way to secrets he’s not meant to hear, secrets that will never leave his lips. 

Despite the sticky texture of the mattress, David lays back and closes his eyes, listening to the soft humming of the sea and Cora’s gentle whispers. 

“Are you okay princess?” Katherine asks, licking at her lips before pressing a comforting kiss against Cora’s messy hair. She smiles when the smaller woman nods and sweeps a soft hand across tanned skin and over red hair. “You did so well.” She praises, pressing dripping lips against hers. 

“I certainly won't forget youse” Cora giggles out when Kath pulls away and swings slightly-trembling legs out the bed and pads across the floor to pull on her dress. “I’se’ll still miss you” 

Katherine takes Cora’s cheeks in her hands and presses a soft kiss against her swollen lips, it's careful and tender- radiating an innocent love, rarely shown under layers of sin and pride. “I’ll be okay darling. It's just lunch with my father” 

“Dats what I'm worried about” she crawls across the bed, legs sore and shaking, and wraps her arms around the taller girl's stomach, face buried into the straightness of her spine. 

“Princess, if I have any say in this, this will be my last lunch with my father” Katherine taps her hip, giving her reflection a proud grin.   
“Please be careful.” 

“I will” Katherine rubs her cheek with her thumb before collecting her suitcase and leaving the bedroom. 

Cora listens to the world around her as she crawls back under the covers. Tearful eyes close as she buries her face into the pillows. Katherine drifts in and out of her mind like the waves and soon Davey appears like a whisper in the wind. She remembers the way stress melted out his muscles while he slept. The way she wanted to slide back into his arms and for him to hold her while protective energy stole her sleep. 

In her mind Davey wraps strong arms around her and rubs small circles in the curves of her back. He presses soft kisses against her forehead and brushes his fingers through her hair. He smiles and wraps her tightly in the blankets, rubbing at her sore legs until the handprints stop stinging against her thighs. 

Cora remembers the way she feels about Katherine, tying lost strings around those feelings felt like playing a matching game about how she felt with Davey and her stomach knots. Love is a weird thing and soulmates are for one person; there is no third half missing from someone else. Her and Katherine were meant to be. So why did Davey bring butterflies and why did she want to lay in his arms and let the fearful tears soak into his skin. 

Why did she want David? 

Why would he like someone like her? The scarred face, the vicious cat that stalked him like a sea rat, the person that nearly burned him alive because she didn't think. She hates this pit of self-loathing that drowns her. She falls asleep, fitfully fighting against her own desires. Maybe if she smothered the feelings for the both of them until her eyes open again, they’ll make sense. 

The next time her eyes open, Davey is standing with his wrists bound and tears prickling at the sides of his eyes. He tries hard to flatten the creases of pain out from the corners of his chewed lips and she sits up instantly. “Why are ya tangled up?”

“I-I, I was worried when you weren't out there a-and I wanted to see if you were okay..a-and Jack tied my wrists too tight-” tears rolled down his cheeks and he slumps at the end of cora’s bed “they really hurt” his voice is barely above a whisper but it speaks volumes. 

Cora quickly untangles the rope from his wrist and sighs. “Why the hell did he fuckin-” she grumbles. “Stupid fuckin man, I swear- its like he aint got not a braincell in dat thick skull o’hi-” 

“Are you mad at me?” Davey suddenly blurts out, voice trembling as he chokes on his own tears. He blinks up at her like a scared child and quickly she takes his face in her hands and wipes the tears away. 

“No. no no no. Davey I ain't mad at youse- I weren't even mad at ya when we stole ya. It was just some stupid attempt to get back at Pulitzer-..but ya family now and I’se just glad ta have youse round…” She lets her fingertips linger against the curve of his chin as she pulls her hands slowly away. “I ain't ever gonna be mad at you. Its Jack i'm mad at- not you- he should know what kinda knot to do” 

She gives Davey a soft smile and after a while of bathing in her warmth; david smiles back, red eyes crinkling in the corners. “Stay still” she orders, sliding a knife out from under her pillow. She saws through the ropes and takes his bruised and pinched wrists in her hands. 

Conscientiously she presses soft lips against the bruises, trying to soak the angry colours into her pale skin, removing any pain from the scuffed skin. She tastes his blood, metallic and sour, on her tongue but she pushes the nervousness away. Davey is her priority now. His skin is warm against her chilly skin and she soaks the feeling through every tingle of her nerves. “It-it was somethin’ my ma usedta do when my bruddas and I got hurt” she explains, letting him tumble forwards into her arms. 

“Mine too.” Sadness latches onto his words, painting his whispered words with a dark blue of depression. “With my sister and brother too.” 

“Oh?” The pillows feel soft against her skin and Davey feels warm against her chest. He runs a hand, slightly clammy and trembling, up and down her arm. She doesnt mean for her wonder to come out like a question, a jabbing finger for him to talk about his trauma.

“Yeah...they died.” He states it simply and emotionlessly, eyes storming as he stares out her window, the sunset washes quickly into the sky; painting them both in soft oranges and pale pinks and exploding fireworks of yellow. 

“Davey I-” 

“Please…” He sighs. “Please don't say you’re sorry for me. I was a kid, its kinda stupid that I remember it. Don't be sorry for me. Its a stupid thing to be sorry about...I’m fine” 

“okay..Ise wont say im sorry..it aint really an apologisin situation is it? It ain't like ya lost a few coins in a game o’ cards.” She shakes her head and instinctively pulls Davey closer until his head is tucked under her chin. He doesnt pull away, he settles, stress melting out his shoulders. “No youse can get dem coins back- ya can't bring back family.” 

His eyes turn to focus on her clouded ones and it's now his turn to cup her face in his hand, letting his fingers tease stray hairs. “Who’d you lose?” 

“My folks...my da did what we’s do- pirate stuff and he promised to never bring his kids into the trade. But mama died and we was so young...da had just found Jackie and he paid with his life for that ....” 

“Is that why you and Jack fight so much?” 

Cora smiles, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “Jack, Race and I are siblings. Siblings fight. Like Sarah and Les.” 

“Sarah?” Davey props himself up on his elbow, eyes wide and nervously grinding his teeth. “My sister was called Sarah..we left her in the dock, the day it happened. With Lesley” his words are disjointed, like the sentence is a struggle to put together. “I thought they died- they found Lesley’s blanket” Blue eyes flick back to cora and he pulls her into a hug so tight she feels her ribs click. She hugs back, confusingly rubbing his back in gentle circles. 

“The night that storm hit?” 

“Yeah...it destroyed the entire dock, mama’s house nearly flooded and we needed to stay in the attic.” 

~~~  
The person at the door sounded like they wanted to break it down. It made the house shake. 

“Children away from the window” Medda orders, picking cora up and balancing the trembling child on her hip as she sauntered over to the door and checks through the peephole. “My dear, it's a child and a baby- my I hope it's not hers. She looks far too young.” 

Cora runs back to her brothers, hiding behind them as another flash of lightning highlights the small figures cowering and shivering on the doorstep. 

“Thank you thank you thank you!” The girl squeaks, gripping the screaming infant against her soaked clothes. Medda sinks to her height and takes her chin between her soft fingers. 

The children look between each other, trading looks of confusion and fear. It’s Jack who takes the metaphorical short straw. He stands and tiptoes over to the hallway, waiting until Medda has stopped fussing before pulling on the bright fabric of her dress. “Mama?” 

“You have children ma’am” the girl asks, rocking the baby in a desperate attempt to stop him from yelling his lungs out. Tears fall as fast as the raindrops down her face and Jack has the desire to pull her into a hug. He steps forwards when Medda beckons for him. 

“I do, their parents are...at sea too. I’ll look after you two now. My dears, you must be so cold. Jackie sweetheart-” 

“Yes mama?” Jack tilts his head up to look his mom in the eye, grinning toothless when she lays a strong hand on his back. 

“Can you go grab the spare blankets out your sisters room and ask the two of them to help? We have guests.” Jack nods, saluting before turning and marching away. “See if cora has any spare clothes to share too!” 

“Aye aye cap’n'' Jack yells back, giggling. There's a collection of whispers and then a quiet thundering of footsteps as the three children depart up the stairs. Jack takes the stairs three at a time, stumbling forwards and having to grab onto the bainser for support. Race bounces up the stairs, kicking Jack in his bare ankles with his shoes. Cora takes the steps slowly, stretching small legs up the thick concrete steps, bare feet bounce from the cold to the well-worn strip of carpet. Green eyes linger over her shoulder at every step before her brothers call for her. She nods and manages an uneven smile before disappearing around a corner.

“We don't wanna be a bother ma’am” Sarah tells her, having to yell over the screaming of the baby still sobbing and hiccuping in her arms. It feels oddly safe when Medda wakes him and rocks him carefully in her arms. Sarah isn't sure what exactly stops Lesley from crying but she's thankful that the sound has stopped. “We can go when the storm lets up ma’am.” 

“You will do no such thing. Lock the door and stay all night” She pulls the child into a hug, not caring how the rain water soaks furiously through the fabric of her dress. “You're with Medda now” 

The boys huddle on Cora’s bed, folding thick blankets and little dresses. “Ya think we’re gonna have new siblings?” Jack asks, handing Race a folded dress, scowling when he tosses it into the pile on the floor. 

“Maybe” He replies, grinning at his brother's anger. 

“Maybe not” Cora says finally, fixing the clothes into piles on the floor; one for warm blankets, another for dresses and skirts that no longer fit against her growing frame, long nighties and thick, itchy pajamas and tiny underwear. Enough for a night stay, too much for a night stay. “I dunno…” 

“C’mon cor’ dontcha think it's fun? New kids..new people ta talk ta.” Jack's elbow meets her ribs in a way that makes her giggle. “What ya scared off?” 

“I ain’t scared’o nothin!” She snaps, raising her head proudly, it drops as her brothers give her unconvinced looks. With a sigh, cora flops to the floor and picks at a pair of socks. “I dunno..it jus feels weird y’know” 

“Change always feels weird. We just gotta be kind” Race hops off her bed and pulls his little sister into a tight hug. “Like how Medda was kind to us when wes first came.” 

“I guess” 

It feels weird seeing another girl in her clothes. A girl so different from Cora. She traces Sarah’s round face and soft features, taking notes of her blueish-brownish eyes and the way she talks. There's no hidden accent, just plain old english. She likes it when Sarah smiles and holding Lesley makes her smile. 

That night the children all shared the living room floor, wrapped under warm blankets, faces illuminated by the fire and scattered breathing muted by the hammering of the rain. 

The one night turns into one week and with no news about their family, Sarah and Les stay with Medda until they’re grown enough to leave. They follow the Higgins kids and Jack into their fathers business. Sarah raises the cannons and Les fills the guns, at night they curl up like they did as children; under thick heavy blankets with a fire running at just embers and rain drumming against the ships walls, but they're safe inside. 

Sarah rarely brings up what happened at the docks or how she watched the police toss Les’ baby blanket into the trash can. She sings Les songs and tells him the stories of the seas and the facts of the moon, Cora helps her teach him to walk and talk and sing. Katherine joins them a few weeks later and they become a family. 

A family of lost children; missing boys and runaway girls.   
~~

Davey stares at Cora with wide tearful eyes. The siblings he had mourned for were always so close. They had been right under his nose and he was too blind to see it. His face contorted before he pulled Cora close. “Thank you thank you thank you” 

“What for?” she asks, giggling as he pulls away and pinches her face between his hands. 

“You saved my siblings” Davey presses a quick kiss to her forehead, ignoring the way her eyes widen and the way her gasp floats soundlessly past her lips. “You saved me!” he stands, back clicking before sinking back down to the bed. 

“Stay here. I'll get ‘em” 

Cora stands in the doorway of her room, watching as a family bonds again. There's tears and confusion before they settle into tight hugs and joyous laughter. She smiles softly, tears rolling down her cheeks. 

“You did a great thin Core” Race tells her as he wraps her into a tight hug. Jack's arms follow suit and soon she's being squished between her two brothers, watching the siblings trade stories and smiles. “Madre would be so prouda you” 

“I hope so Antonio. I hope so’s” 

It's long after the sun sets and the stars rise in the dark sky does Sarah carry a sleeping Les back into the sleeping quarters. Cora sinks by Davey as he falls breathlessly back on the bed. 

“That was-..” He just sighs and turns to face her and his smile twitches downwards. “A-are you okay?” 

Cora nods and rubs tears and sleep out her eyes. “It's...its been a long day.” Davey nods in agreement and goes to stand, blinking when Cora grabs a hold of his hand. “Stay?” 

He glances at the door, before down at their hands. “Always” he whispers, sinking next to her without a second thought. 

The two of them soak in the feeling of each other. Cora feels the springs squeal under Davey's frame and she sees him cower into a ball. “What's wrong?” 

“I'm too...” He gestures down at his frame, disgust highlighting his face in the moonlight. 

“No ya aint.” Cora takes his hands in hers, squeezing them tightly. “I...I’se think you’re perfect.” 

He tries to scoff away her words but the grip she has on his hands and the sincerity in her eyes makes him believe her. Love blossoms out his chest and soaks his body in a tired warmth. 

“No you are” He whispers once she's asleep. His eyes drift closed.

At least for tonight; David’s wishes on the stars and dreams have come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next time his eyes open, he's mildly aware that the room he's in, is not his. He takes note of the still chandelier and the covered walls and the windows that stream in warm sunlight. There's a ball of warmth pressed against the small of his back, it's unfamiliar but comforting. Carefully, he shifts until he’s laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. A small smile creeps its way across his tired features. Cora lays at his side, arm loosely hanging across his chest, her fingers twitching as sleep tingles at the corners at her eyes.


	6. Feeling as good as lovers can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next time his eyes open, he's mildly aware that the room he's in, is not his. He takes note of the still chandelier and the covered walls and the windows that stream in warm sunlight. There's a ball of warmth pressed against the small of his back, it's unfamiliar but comforting. Carefully, he shifts until he’s laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. A small smile creeps its way across his tired features. Cora lays at his side, arm loosely hanging across his chest, her fingers twitching as sleep tingles at the corners at her eyes.

The next time his eyes open, he's mildly aware that the room he's in, is not his. He takes note of the still chandelier and the covered walls and the windows that stream in warm sunlight. There's a ball of warmth pressed against the small of his back, it's unfamiliar but comforting. Carefully, he shifts until he’s laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. A small smile creeps its way across his tired features. Cora lays at his side, arm loosely hanging across his chest, her fingers twitching as sleep tingles at the corners at her eyes. 

He takes soft notes of the human way her hair tumbles across her pillow, gentle curls lapping like the waves licking slowly at the side of the ship. Her nose crinkles and her cheek squishes against his shoulder. Stripes of soft oranges and pinks laid over her like carefully placed silk saris. He wishes that he could capture the way the sunrise soaks across her frame, darkening the outlines under the thin sheets. 

Soft green eyes meet his bright blue ones and a soft smile falters its way across her tiredly soft features. “Good morning” he whispers, voice barely audible over the calmness in the air. 

“Good morning” she whispers back, dainty hands raising to rub the sleep out of her eyes. Sheets tumble into their laps when she sits up and slides her arms slowly off him. Her neck clicks and her shoulders roll, tired scars whining at the movement. 

Davey winces in sympathy, fingers floating across his wrist, picking at the scabbed skin under it. 

“Did you sleep well?” she asks, smiling at the half-smile that ghosts its way across his lips. When Davey nods, Cora relaxes back in his arms and takes in the rising sun and the singing of the birds. 

The two of them settle in each other's presence; a tangled mess of limbs and intertwining breaths and soft whispers. It's the thumping of Race’s heavy feet and rapid breathing that startles them out of each other's eyes and over to the door. 

“Quick!” Cora pushes Davey carefully in the shoulder, and, unsure where to go, he clambers under the bed, whimpering as the door slams open and Race trips through the door, grabbing a hold of his sister's bed to stop himself from falling.

“Core” He pants out, cheeks an almost comical red. “Mama wants to see us-” 

“When?” 

“Sundown” Race flails a letter in his hand before chucking it onto her bed. She reaches over the covers and takes it in her hands. 

Davey watches Race’s feet move; one hand pressed against his mouth, the other ghosting across the carefully made floor. Strong fingers brush against a tangled, damp mess of ribbon, it's soft against his skin and he twirls it around his fingers before tossing it back when he hears the door close and Cora breathes a sigh of relief. There's silence for a few seconds before Davey crawls out from under the bed, hair a mess and a soft, bittersweet smile spread across his half-tired features. 

“Ya got folks?” he asks, perching back on her bed, hand rubbing her calf. 

A half-hearted shrug is his reply as she soaks against his fingers. “Kinda.” she says with a sigh “ after mine and Racer’s folks died, we’s wenta a friend o’my pa’s- Miss Medda Larkin. Runs a bar kinda thin’.” Davey nods. 

“So she wants to see you tonight?”

“Mhmm” 

They nod at each other before Cora opens her arms and Davey crawls back inside. They stay that way until the sun starts to set and Cora pushes herself off the bed, tossing clothes on, pretending that his wandering eyes are not digging holes into his back. 

“Ya comin Davey?” 

His eyebrows crease a little, eyes scanning over her civilian clothes- the ruffled collar shirt and paint-stained black pants cuffs stuffed into stuffed boots. Blonde hair lays in soft braids, tied securely with the same red ribbon from days past. She spins a cloak around her shoulders and smiles when she turns to face him. 

“Huh? Oh yeah!” Not sure what to wear, he smooths down his white shirt and runs slightly shaking hands across dark brown pants and scuffs black boots against the floor. “Do...do I look okay?” he asks with a cautiously hopeful look. 

“Ya look fine, mama will getcha some new clothes. She does with all the new crewmates.” 

Another hyper knock startles them from their conversation and before Cora can allow the person on the other side of the door to ender, Les bursts through the door- grey shirt half unbuttoned and tattered shoelaces laying undone against his black shoes. “Mama! Were gonna go see grandma, why do we need to wear such stupid clothes?” 

“Because Les, pumpkin, if we don’ people are gonna sees we’re pirates nd…” she draws a finger across her throat and Les just nods, pretending that he understands. 

“But the shoes hurt my feet! And the wools so scratchy!” The child complains, scratching at the thick, grey pants with a desire to tear small nails through the thick fabric and too pale, freckled skin beneath it. Cora takes his hands and squeezes them. 

“You can change when we’s get to grandma ‘kay? She has spares. S’just for the walk over, so you don't get cold. I’se know it's scratchy sweet.” She smiles hopelessly and kisses Les on the head when he nods. 

Davey gives les a wave. “Why are you in my mama's room?” 

“Ummmm-” 

“Davey jus’ dropped off the message about us going to grandma’s” 

“Oh” Les squints skeptically before his face flattens out “okay mama” 

And with that, Les settles to sitting on the bed, drumming his feet in a slow rhythmic motion while Cora finishes doing up his buttons. Les wrestles with his shoelaces for a few moments before they loop through each other and he bounces up. “Can we go now?” 

Cora looks at Davey who gives her a slow nod. “Sure, are the others ready?” 

“Mhmm!” 

And so, with the ship docked and the smell of the sea stripped off their skin; the crewmates of Carpe Diem stumble through the Manhattan streets with slack-jaw smiles and laughter fizzling on their tongues. 

The sun has just started to sea over the crooked teeth of before they stumble up and into the alley behind Medda Larkin’s burlesque theatre. As they file in, Davey squints confused.

“Why don't we just...go through the front door?” 

Race knocks once, and then again. Knuckles rasping against the damaged wood until it swings open and they step inside. “because-David- if wes went through da frontdoor-” 

Cora cuts her older brother off with a sigh “people are gonna s’pect us ta pay.” 

“Money dat we ain't got” Jack adds, tapping his pockets. 

“Well, we have” Cora quips “but it ain't for us. Ya see-” 

“We give the money to orphans.” Sarah tells her brother. “Medda first and then she hands it out to the other people who need it.” 

“So’s paying would be counterintuitive.” Crutchie tells Davey with a sunshine smile. 

Spellbound and slightly confused, David nods as the others separate into little groups, collecting in the wings. It's the bright pink of Medda’s dress that steals Davey's eyes away from the way Cora looks under the husky glow of neon lights.

It highlights her movements as she sasheys around on stage, she seems so calm on stage, like it comes freely. Her voice belts and it steals the air from his lungs. He listens to her sing and dance, the band twirling around his head as soft as a may-day parade ribbon. 

Just as soon as the song has started, the final chords ring out and Medda’s voice fades away. The curtain falls and they can hear people slowly starting to fall out of the theatre. She steps backstage, her long dress swaying around her feet. 

The children all run for their mother while Les tugs himself out of his trousers and into looser, baggier jeans. He bounces over to his grandmother and laughs when she tosses him into the air before catching him in a hug. 

“Miss Medda?” Sarah asks, putting a soft hand on Davey’s arm. “This is David.” 

“Ise never seen you around here before.” Medda tells him, a suspicious glint in her eyes as she scans the taller man. He feels his shoulders hunch before his mothers voice brushes against his ear and he straightens again. 

“I’m new ma’am. Your daughter and her crew rescued me.” He gives her a nervous half-smile before Medda simply nods and turns to talk to her children once again. 

“Hes the brother we thought had died-!” Sarah blurts out, its now her turn to look nervous while David looks on with an aura of surprise. Had they really thought that he had died?

“Really? What happened David?” 

“Uhm…” 

“My father found him after the death of his parents, used him as a slave.” Katherine explains, curled up in front of the fire. There's a blur of blonde as Cora shoots forward and gathers her girlfriend tightly in her arms. Kath instantly wraps her fingers around her chin and guides her lips into a long, loving kiss that makes David heart pound jealousy into his bloodstream. 

“Come, come dinners nearly ready.” Medda ushers her children into the back of the theatre and Davey turns to wander back the way they came. “David, baby, where are you going?” 

“Well. im not family-” 

“Bullshit David.” He blinks, eyes wide at Medda expletive. “Anyone a friend- or more- of my daughter is family. We can set another plate for you.” 

Davey looks between the hopeful faces before he feels something small slide into his hand.

“Please?” Les begs, his small fingers wrapping and clenching against Davey's thicker ones. “Stay? We don't wanna lose you again.” 

Theres barely any room around the table when he sits down, Les snuggled onto his lap. He picks at the meal, just soaking in the familiar warmth of having a family. Groups of his crewmates talk and laugh, others sit in a comfortable silence and scoop greens and meat onto their forks, chewing as gravy rolls down their chin. His sister sits across from him, cutting her food into small chunks before separating them. It takes a few seconds for Davey to look down at his own plate to notice he's done the same. 

He manages a breathy chuckle. 

Some things never change. 

The walk back to the ship feels longer. They’re no longer buzzing with tired excitement. Sleep plagues their voices and half-way back home, Davey has to scoop up Les to stop him from falling asleep where he stands. With his baby brother curled into his arms, he looks over his shoulder at Cora. frowning a little when he spots her and Katherine wandering through the streets hand-in-hand as if the only two there. 

“I know that look.” Sarah whispers as she links arms with her brother. “Ya like her dont you.” 

“What?!” Davey snaps loud enough for Race and Spot to look back over at them angrily. His voice drops “no- I-I mean I think? Maybe? Yes? But I can't have her can I?!” An untouched bitterness lingers on his words as his eyes drop to a sleeping Les in his arms. In his round face, David finds an unbroken innocence and he sighs, shoulders sagging and eyes once again floating back over his shoulder. 

He and Cora make eye contact for just a second but it lingers in the air; a million unspoken words hanging like the untouchable moonbeams that skate across their faces, painting them in a pale yellow and low grays. They fizzle and pop, sounds low enough for only their ears. 

The next time they look at each other, they're watching the waves lapping at the side of the boat, low and tired. Her shoulder is pressed against his arm, her head resting against his shoulder. There’s a silence between them as they hover, sneaking looks at their rippling reflections. 

“D’ya know how to sword fight?” Cora asks, Davey watching her reflection ripple away with a strong wave. He straightens and a gust of wind tousles his hair like a proud parent, a ghost of a smile paints his lips. “Well?” 

He tilts his head as he turns to face him. “Hmm? oh...Pulizer never taught me.” 

There's a slash as cora drags her Cutlass out its protective sheath, his breath freezes and fear flashes as quick as shooting stars, disappearing in a fizzle of surprise when she flicks it in the air and hands him the handle. 

Nervously he takes it and places the tip down between his feet, following her slowly with his eyes as she steals Jack’s sword from his hip. 

The out-streched blade glints in the moonlight and Davey watches the beams bounce off the playful determination in her eyes. He copies her posture. 

They move like two lost shadows against the moonlight; silent and hidden against the darkness, the only signs of their existence the laughter bubbling away in their chest and the clinking of metal. 

They slide and dance the waltz of death; knocking on his door before scampering away like two children stripped of trauma and fear, left alone with the innocence of new love blooming like the first roses after a snowstorm. 

Wind steals the air from their lungs and the mast becomes their safety, Cora pressing her back against the strong oak as she pants in heavy breathes. With the tip of her own sword pressing weakly against the middle of her chest, she hums out Davey’s name and he watches it drip from her lips like honey covered hymns.

“Ya really good.” She whispers, picking the sword off her chest. Her fingers float against his skin as she rolls the sword as quickly as he's seen Race roll a cigar. It clicks when it slides slowly into the harness and she discards it slowly onto the floor, her moonkissed contraband left abandoned across the side. The stars blink down at them like curious strangers as she steps closer, her fingers lacing innocently through his. 

“I had a great teacher.” He whispers, voice a ghost in the moonlight. 

The grip on her fingers tightens as she shifts. His nose traces across the curve of her face and his arms wrap settled against her hips. She pulls herself close, soaking in the warmth of lips part, drawing in the shared breath. Gentle lips brush against hers, sparking through her system like lightning bolts; they strike the ground and thunder rumbles, rattling her to her core. 

She feels his lips brush against hers, fingers lost in her hair and feet moving as one as they study themselves in the stillness of the air. Her eyes float closed and he steals the final traces of untouched air from her still lungs.   
“Cora!” Anger, as slashing as hailstones, stabs at her voice and she jolts away. Wide eyes fearful and nervous as she blinks at her girlfriend, underdress flying in the suddenly chilly wind. 

“Kathy-” A lost voice floats away, unheard and untouched like butterfly wings. Tears sparkle, reflecting the stars as David gathers himself and leaves. 

He tries not to listen to the arguments as he curls around himself. The thin pillow provides little support to his neck and less support to the begging cries of Cora and the hurt tone of Katherine. 

He lays on his side, shivering and staring at the wall as he longs for the guilt in his stomach to stop destroying his insides. It stabs at him sharper than any knife and presses harder than any cannonball could ever. David begs in a small tone for forgiveness, that his mother is not mad at her son for breaking a relationship, that his father isn’t grinning with patriarchal pride. 

Most of all, David begs for Cora to stop crying. 

It's a knock at the door that startles a whimper out his throat. Jack pushes the creaking door open, tiredness clearly still clinging to his frame. “The captain wants to see you.” 

His blood freezes in his veins and there’s a fear in his eyes that Jack wants to scoops out and replace with a confidence that's been built back up and glued together by respect and trust and family. 

“I-is it bad?” 

“I dont know.” 

“Why did you kiss him?” Katherine asks, pacing around the small room, feet falling heavy enough to break lines into the flooring. Her feet hop as if walking on hot coals and cora knows it's the firing anger that's heating her footsteps. 

She follows the steps with her eyes, wishing that she could be trampled under katherines feet, into bite-sized chunks until she can fall away deep into the sea where she’d be useful. Yelling makes her ears sting and almond nails dig deep dents into her palm until the tears are flowing like the first rains after a drought. 

“I dont know.” 

Katherine stops in her pacing and whirls around to stare at Cora, red eyes scanning her features. “Oh princess. You love him don't you?” 

“I dont know” 

There’s an empty blandness to her voice, eyes still staring at the floor. 

“Yes.” 

She falls against her girlfriends side and with a shudder the storm clouds in her eyes break and monsoons flood her face until the blonde’s normally pale face has become a furious blood mask. 

“Kathy im sorry-I’ise so sorry- I-” Cora waits for Kath to scream or yell, to ball her delicate hands into furious fists and pound them into her side until her ribs crack like fragile wood, but instead they slide under her chin and bring snot-covered lips gently to hers.   
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for Cora Princess.” 

“But I-...I cheated-” The genuine softest in the redhead’s eyes softens Cora’s sobs to a sniffle. 

“No sweetheart. Love is a weird thing, you can love more than one person.” A gentle hand cups her breast, thumb tapping the dumb beat of her heart. “You gotta lot of love to give, and I see the way you and Davey look at each other.” 

In the silence Cora just nods. 

“I love him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be updated


End file.
